


Between the Sinners and the Saints

by BeezandBitches



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/F, He/Him pronouns for Michael, Sleeping on the couch of your totally not-crush, Still a lesbian, War is feral and gay, whirlwind love story through france
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 18:08:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20839796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeezandBitches/pseuds/BeezandBitches
Summary: Michael is now the unfortunate Earth operative for Heaven. And while his apartment is being set up, he’s sleeping on War’s couch. In France. Let’s spend a week with them and see how fast things can flip from friendly to frisky.





	Between the Sinners and the Saints

War didn’t expect a knock at her door that night. She hadn’t expected to have company over at all, in all honesty. She hadn’t even been in her new apartment in Bordeaux, France for a whole week when she opened the door at well-past midnight and found Archangel Michael standing there. 

“What’re you doing here?” War asked. She hadn’t planned for this. She had planned for a night alone, lounging with a bottle of fancy french wine and expensive chocolates. She was even dressed for the occasion, wearing a red satin robe that hung loosely on her shoulders. 

“You see, due to the,” Michael cringed at the memory of what he saw during his short visit to Hell. “_ complications _concerning Armageddon, Heaven was in need of a new Earth operative. And well, it was originally planned that I would replace the former operative during the 19th century.”

“Yeah, ok. What’s any of that have to do with you standing on my doormat?” War motioned to the cat-themed doormat that Michael was currently on. He moved off slowly and looked at it. ‘Purrease Come In’, didn’t seem like it would be something War would own.

“I was, well, hoping that perhaps you could.. let me stay with you. For a few nights, at least. My apartment hasn’t quite been finished yet and I refuse to use any unnecessary miracles.” War blinked as though she had just been told fire was wet. Michael wanted her help? _ The _Archangel Michael, holy saint of bastards and bitches, wanted her help?

“You’re serious?” She asked.

“Yes.”

“On God?” War was amused by the mildly annoyed look that was on Michael’s face after using the Lord’s name so freely. She’d have to thank Pollution for teaching her that one.

“May I come inside or not?” He asked, manicured hands on his hips.

“Sure, just don’t molt all over my couch.” War walked back over to her spot and plopped down on an expensive-looking leather couch. Michael slowly followed inside and closed the door, awkwardly standing there as he scooped out the area.

It wasn’t a particularly lavish apartment, it was fairly normal sized but most of the furniture inside was nice and complimented the space, including the couch where War was sprawled out, popping bonbons into the air and catching them in her mouth. It was a very feral sight.

“Ya just gonna stand there or take a seat?” War asked as she turned slightly to look at him. Michael took the hint and sat down a couple feet from where War laid. He was tense and closed off, hands in his lap as he watched the Horseperson shuffle up, her robe sliding off one shoulder.

“Lovely um, interior design scheme you’ve got here.” Michael said, unsure of what to talk about with his begrudging host.

“Thanks. Raven did it for me.” War said. “He’s really good at colors and shit.”

“The whole room is red.”

“And black.” War corrected. “With some silver.”

“Still mostly red.” Michael said. His eyes traveled to the bottle of wine that War reached for. “Still indulging in alcohol I see?”

“Mm, how could you tell?” She said sarcastically as she took a sip straight from the bottle. “Hm. Lil’ sweet. Want some?” She offered the bottle to Michael, who put up a hand and politely pushed it back to her.

“No, thank you.” He said. “I don’t-“

“Let me guess, ‘sully your celestial temple’?” War mocked Gabriel, voice and all. Then she snorted. “The purple eyed prude said that whenever Raven offered to share what he was cooking.”

“The embodiment of Famine.. cooks?” Michael could practically _ hear _ the contradictions of that statement. 

“He’s the best at it. Don’t tell him I said that, though. It’ll go to his head.” War sat up and popped her shoulder blade. “You still should have a drink. I doubt you sleep, so if you’re gonna be up we might as well have a little fun.”

“I’ve never.. drank, anything, actually.” Michael said as he inspected the bottle slightly.

“Well, no time like the present.” War said as she handed it to him. 

His lips twitched as he took the bottle to his lips and let the deep scarlet drink flow into his mouth. It was sweet and burned like a spark of hellfire. Michael let it slide down his throat before smacking his lips lightly, trying to understand the flavor.

“Wine’s for a refined palette.” War said as she took the bottle back. “Or this might suck, I can’t really tell.” Then she took another swig of it.

“You’re.. well versed in human culture.” Michael said. 

“Yeah, well, I’ve been here for 6,000 years. Had to get used to it instead of just showing up to cause problems. Makes things a lot more fun.” A wicked grin spread over her lips as she watched him go for another drink. “See, that’s the spirit.”

——

Michael woke up for the first time ever the next morning with a big red stain on his ruffled top, his suit jacket had been carelessly thrown off and now laid on the floor all crumpled and messy, a pounding headache, and with the embodiment of War laying her head over his chest, awake and grinning evilly with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

“Morning Mikey.” She purred in a way that made Michael’s non-existent blood run cold. The look on his face made her snort with laughter. “Relax, would you?”

“You’re.. on top of me.” He said, trying to shuffle up as War climbed off, wearing her robe somehow looser than she had been the night before as both shoulders slid down her arms. 

“Sorry. Must’ve passed out. We finished quite a few bottles of that shitty wine before moving on to the better stuff.” War said as she rearranged herself. “Didn’t go any farther than that, I'm afraid. So you can quit holding your breath.”

“I-I’m doing no such thing.” Michael protested.

“I’m only joking, feathers.” War said. “I know you’re too holy to mess around with me.”

“That’s- I don’t have the energy to discuss this.” He sighed as he sat up right and fixed his wrinkled shirt.

“Well, you can stay here and nap all you want. I got things to do today.” She said as she headed to the bedroom. “Got a big day planned!”

“Consisting of?” He asked. 

War walked back out less than a minute later, completely dressed and ready to cause a riot. Literally. Lovely how miracles could do all the hard work, but War loved to be a little dramatic.

“Riot in town. Causing some petty arguments. Maybe go see one of those funny looking french chefs beat another with a baguette.” She went to grab her purse from the counter and handed Michael a small paper. “If you need to call me, here’s my number. Be warned, if I’m out past midnight I’m probably with a pretty girl or getting out of somewhere before the cops show up. Prison is such a pain.”

“You’ve been arrested?” Michael cocked an eyebrow. Sure War ended up at a ton of dangerous riots but to get _ caught _? That didn’t sound like her.

“Eh, once or twice. Ok maybe three times but it was only because the cop was pretty.” War snorted. “Wish I still had her number.”

“You’re.. quite an interesting case.” A nut case was more like it, but it was in her nature to be messy.

“The best there is, Mikey. Best there is. Now I gotta scoot. Don’t destroy the place, that’s my job!”

And with that, War left the apartment. Leaving Archangel Michael alone on her leather couch, ruffled and hungover with nothing to do.

The most interesting week of Michael’s eternal life had just been set into motion. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am the captain of this damn ship and I will make all the content for it if I have to dammit. Hope y’all enjoyed it btw!
> 
> Follow me @BeezandBitches on Tumblr for sneak peaks and stupidity.


End file.
